


Of Juggalos and Transfer Students

by BenvolioPontmercy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Humanstuck, M/M, this was not well thought through on my part, why am i writing a higschool au when i haven't been to school once in my entire life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-05 20:03:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1830562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BenvolioPontmercy/pseuds/BenvolioPontmercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you're having the worst high school experience ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bus Ride

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God, so writing is not at all my strong suit as you'll probably be able to tell. Anyways, this is my first Homestuck fic. As always, Kudos, Comment, Bookmark <3

====> Be Gamzee

Your name is Gamzee Makara. You are 17 years old and tired of being treated like a motherfucking child. Seriously, your dad looks down on you. Your brother looks down on you. Even your best bro Karkat looks down on you. Sure, you’re a pothead, and not the smartest guy out there, but you’ve got a good fucking head on your shoulders.

These are the sorts of thoughts that roll through your head every day as you get ready for school. (Which you would have dropped out of if it weren’t for your dad forcing you to go.)

Meticulously, you put your books into your bag one by one. Trigonometry, World History, Biology, English. Biology is the only class you honestly like, and that’s just because you get to poke dead things sometimes. That’s pretty wicked.

Once your books are in your bag, you start to zone off again until you hear your dad stomping his way upstairs. Shit, you must be late. You’re going to get a pounding for that.

====> Be Tavros

Your name is Tavros Nitram. At 15 years old, you’re going to be the youngest person in the 11th grade, and a transfer student at that. Oh yeah, and a cripple. Great.  
Thanks to physical therapy, your legs have been more compliant recently, so at least you won’t have to go to your first day at the new school in a wheelchair.

Why does your dad have to travel so much, you wonder. It’s not like he needs to move for his job or anything; he runs a home business. You had just gotten used to your last school! Yeah, your only friend was a bitch to you, but at least you were used to her. You had stayed two years there; that was the longest your family ever stayed in one place.

Your head jerks up to a loud thumping on your door, and your brother Rufioh pushes his way in.

“Hey, little brother!” he chirps, lifting you onto his shoulders and almost hitting your head on the ceiling in the process. He’s around 6’4” and built like a brick wall—a stark contrast to your 5’3” feminine frame.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck. Rufioh’s really the only friend you’ve had your whole life. He actually treats you as more than your disability.

“C’mon, or you’re gonna be late for your first day!” He grabs your bookbag and dashes out the door, still carrying you as if you weighed nothing.

Once the two of you get outside, he sets you down onto the sidewalk and brushes off your cattle skull shirt. You let your head droop against his chest and murmur almost inaudibly, “What if they don’t like me?”

Either he doesn’t hear you or he pretends not to, because he doesn’t say anything. The two of you stand in silence at the curb waiting for the bus to arrive.

====> Be Gamzee

You’re sitting alone on the bus. You would’ve sat down with Karkat, but he’s with that Dave guy. You and that Dave guy don’t exactly get along. Unfortunately, outside of Karkat, nobody’s really willing to sit next to you, the creepy-as-shit makeup and all.

You lean back, figuring you’ll take a nap (your place is a long way from the school, after all), when the bus stops again and the doors open, and in walks the cutest little motherfucker you’ve ever seen.

He looks around the bus awkwardly and seems a bit distressed that the only seat open is next to you. You shrug it off and flash him a grin. His tan skin flushes and he drops his hazel eyes. He doesn’t look up from the ground once the entire time he walks to where you are at the back of the bus.

Once he sits down next to you, you whip to the side to introduce yourself.

“Hey, motherfucker. Gamzee Makara. And you are?”

After opening and closing his mouth a few times, he finally spits out, “Uh, Tavros. Tavros Nitram.”

You grin again. “I haven’t up and seen you around here before, you new?”

He nods sheepishly and pulls his knees up to his chest. “Do, uh, do you always wear clown makeup?” he finally builds up the courage to ask you.

“Yeah. Got a bunch of scars and shit, I figured it was better than nothin’.” His eyes widen. You can tell he wants to know more about your scars, and you typically wouldn’t mind sharing, but you don’t want to scare the little guy away. “It’s all cool,” is what you say instead, and the two of you sit in silence for the rest of the bus ride.


	2. Introductions and Misinformations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, that first chapter got a way better reception than I expected, thanks! Also, sorry if Aradia is OOC, I haven't written her before.

====> Be Tavros

Well, at least it looks like you have a friend. Well, you think you do. Gamzee, or whatever his name was, seemed pretty out of it when you two were talking. You wander over to your new locker, and, in trying not to look anybody in the eyes, bump into a girl who seems to be about your height.

As she turns to look at you, her long black hair cascades down her face, almost tangling into her many piercings. Oh god, you think, is this a school for freak shows?

“Sorry about that,” she muses in a hollow voice.  
“Oh, no, it was definitely my fault,” you squeak out. You stand there for a while, waiting for her to move on, but she stays where she is. Her almost-black eyes seem to be drilling holes into your soul.

“You’re in front of my locker,” she finally says, tilting her head to the side.

“Oh- uh- Oh. Sorry, uh…”  
“Aradia.”

“Right. Sorry, Aradia.” You scoot to the side, laughing nervously, and glace down at your papers if only just to cover your blush. You check on what your locker number is, and—oh. Oh great. It looks like you and she are going to be locker neighbors.

====> Be Gamzee

“I’m telling you, Karbro, this kid was as cute as a miraculous motherfucking rainbow!”

“Jesus Christ, Gamzee, that isn’t even a thing,” Karkat snaps at you, throwing his books unceremoniously into his locker.

You shrug and trot after him to your first class, trigonometry, hoping like shit that the kid will be there. When he isn’t there (or in your other two classes before noon), you resolve to track him down at the cafeteria.

Lunch is your favorite time of the day. School might not be your shit, but cooking sure as hell is! If you ever end up being able to make money off of it, you’ll never do anything else.

You sit down at your usual table with Karkat, Sollux, Terezi, and Dave (ugh) and open your lunchbox. Today you’ve got a hash soufflé—the school workers gave up trying to make you stop brining drugs to school after the first month—and a bottle of wicked elixir, Grape Faygo. Karkat and Dave are bickering or something, but you tune them out and watch for the newbie. What was his name again? Travis? Trevor? You’ve never been good with names.

What you are good at is recognizing faces, and you’re quick to jump up the second you spot him walking in.

====> Be Tavros

So you’re with the clown guy again. He’s definitely not 100% there, but he’s a sweet guy, you suppose. He ran up to you the second you walked into the cafeteria, spewing something about how it was “such a miracle” that he found you again. One of his delicate, lanky arms is draped around your shoulder, and the other is gesturing to various people in the room as he lists them all off to you.

“Well, let’s see, brother.” He gestures to a girl wearing lots of bright clothing and jewelry, her dreadlocked hair tied into a bun, and a Persian-looking guy wearing an equal amount of jewelry. “Over there we’ve got Feferi and Eridan. Fefsis is nice, but Eridan can up and be a bit of a jerk some of the times.” He shrugs and points to a guy with long hair sitting close to them. He seems way too big to be in high school and clutches his fork like he’s about to break it. “That’s Equius. He’s a pretty stressed out motherfucker, trying to be popular and all. Next to him is Nepeta, his wicked sister.” Nepeta is a tiny Asian girl—even smaller than you are—in oversized clothing. She looks to be the most normal person you’ve seen all day.

“Over at that table we’ve got John, Jade, Rose, and Kanaya. Rose, Jade, and Kanaya are nice chicks, but I don’t think John likes me much.” You see two goth-looking girls with pale skin and black lipstick sitting next to a pair of kids with black hair and glasses.

“Now these guys over here—“ He pulls you over to a table. “—Are my wicked people! Sollux.” He points to a smirking kid who, for some reason, has 3D glasses on. “Terezi.” A giggling girl with bright red hair who appears to be blind. “And Karkat.” Karkat glances up at you through the black hair hanging over his eyes and grumbles something.

“Woah. Woah.” The last guy at the table, who Gamzee didn’t introduce, stands up. “If you won’t introduce me, shithead, I’ll have to introduce myself. Dave Strider, professional coolkid.” Terezi busts out laughing, and you shake Dave’s hand with a blush.

“Nice to meet you all,” you murmur with a meek smile. They seem to expect you to say more, but the second you open your mouth again they’ve returned to their previous conversation. Gamzee smiles apologetically at you and shrugs.

You realize that you haven’t seen Aradia here, and ask Gamzee where she is. He stares blankly at you (well, blanker than usual) and blinks a few times. “Who?”


End file.
